Haunted Wednesday

I've had a number of scary experiences, Paranormal Encounters, if you will... Whether or not they are actually spirits or just my mind creating these things really makes no difference to me at all. They have all been terribly frightening, none the less.

There was the time I thought my husband was a ghost, and no matter how many times I think of it and even though I laugh now, it was absolutely horrifying at the time.
Imagine waking up to a shadowy figure floating directly over your head, mere inches from your face. It's very dark in the room and it takes your eyes a few seconds to focus in before you see the outline of death hovering over you. You scream and wrench the covers up to your chin while squeezing your eyes shut... You dare yourself to peek out again only to see the same demon looking back at you, only now, in your mind, he has sharp pointy fangs.. And he's drooling scary ghost saliva. And he has crazy eyes! CRAZY FUCKING EYES!!! And now you realize those crazy eyes are glowing. And they're red! You slam your eyes shut, scream again and yank the blankets up to your nose... You tell yourself, just one more look, to be sure that the terror you've just witnessed is real. You open only one eye this time and you see the monster moving. That is all you can stand.
Your shriek reverberates throughout the house and your first instinct is to throw the blanket over your head. Why?? You may be asking. Obviously, you can't outrun a ghost. They are lightning fast; and if it's a demon, it will possess you and probably kill your whole family. But blankets have magical properties. Every blanket/sheet/bed covering is woven together with fibers from angel wings. They form an incorruptible shield between you and anything even remotely scary. After what seems like hours of hyperventilating under your magic blankie, you come to your senses. "I'm an idiot, there's nothing there... I'm 26 years old! What the hell am I doing under here?"

That's when it happens, the demon speaks... "What the hell are you doing?!" It's then that you realize ghost/demon/shadowy death man is in fact your loving but super irritated husband.
You shamefully poke your head out of the blanket and say in a tiny voice, "Oh... It's you... I thought you were a ghost. .. ... . .." And you make this face: :o|

Then the anger smacks you square in that face. Who in the hell comes and stands over your bed and stares at you in the middle of the goddamn night?! On Christmas Eve, no less? You know he has seen "A Christmas Carol" and that should be enough to prevent unwelcome floating over the bed in the middle of the night. So then you say, "What in the hell are you doing?!" Only when you say it, it really does sound like you've been possessed by a demon because you're so mad your voice takes on a mind of its own.
You don't even wait for an answer. You just roll over and pretend to have gone back to sleep. You never want to speak of this awful experience ever again, only you can never live it down. Not because you threw the blankets over your head instead of running. Not because you saw someone in your house and didn’t immediately dial 911. Not because not once, not twice, but thrice you screamed out in fear. And not because at the end of the hypothetical day, it turned out to be your husband and not the scary monster with crazy eyes and ghost drool you thought you saw…
No, no, you can never live down this particular forty-five seconds of your life because your newborn, not even two month old child was lying on the bed in her Boppy, not but sixteen inches away from you. Maybe half an arm’s length. And you didn’t even try to protect her. No magical shield blankie went flying over her head. You didn’t dive in front of her desperately yelling, “Leave the baby!! You can have my soul instead!” You didn’t even glance in her direction while Satan was traipsing around your bedroom.
To you people who think I am a bad mother, I say this: Did it ever occur to you that baby souls are so pure nothing evil can come within six inches of them? Because I’ve come to the conclusion that instinctively, I knew my baby’s soul was safe. I knew that I was more in danger of being possessed or just stared at by this scary ghost than Emma was. Plus, babies can’t see well at that stage of their lives! She wouldn’t have seen the same thing I’d seen. She didn’t even know what scary was yet!! So, in conclusion, I am not a bad mom. Just an enormously frightened individual whom encountered what I thought was an other worldly phenomenon on the creepiest night of the year.